Deception
by lynnxlady
Summary: Ingame oneshot. In Bevelle, Yuna speaks with Seymour about a wedding, and there are lies within lies.


A/N: Takes place in Bevelle, between when Yuna was separated from the others and when her guardians rescue her from her wedding. It's Seymour/Yuna in that they're interacting, he's interested in her, and she's playing along, more or less. No actual romance, so don't worry if you're against this pairing. (I'm rather fascinated by it, but that's a whole different matter.) The scene is intended to fit into canon.

   Seymour tucked a strand of her hair behind one of her ears, before continuing with his cool inspection.

   Yuna could only watch him. The adrenaline in her body insisted that she reach for her wand and perform the sending now. But of course, the Guado had taken her wand from her. She could try without it, of course, since she supplied the raw power it focused, but she suspected he was too determined enough to remain on this plain of existence.

   That was for the best, really, she thought. If she tried to send him here, and failed, she wouldn't be able to escape with her life—

   He leaned forward, his movements deliberate as always, and cupped the back of her neck with his hand. Suddenly very aware of her thudding pulse, she wondered if he could sense it too. "Beautiful…" he whispered into her ear. She stiffened, because of the automatic—interest the contact elicited.

   —Escape with her life, so she could die elsewhere to bring the Calm—

   "Do not say that, Lord Seymour." Her voice was level, Yuna noted with some relief.

   "I will say what I want. Do you not believe you are beautiful?"

   A detached part of her wondered if Tidus found her beautiful. She thought that he might.

   She saved that thought for later, for the place in her mind she went when she woke up in the middle of the night. The longest hours of the day seemed to come just after midnight, and then she found she needed all the good thoughts she could scrounge to get through them. 

   She said, "I am not accusing you of lying, Lord Seymour. I just do not want to hear you admire me. You are…dead…"

   He did not seem particularly bothered by that fact. "Indeed."

   One long-fingered hand sketched her jaw line. "Today is the ceremony. Marry me before witnesses, and then Spira may have its hope."

   "Spira's hope will be short-lived without the Calm," she replied evenly. "You will end my pilgrimage."

   He made an amused sound. "Never, Lady," he said, in a tone another man might use for sweet nothings. "Of all I may do to you, never that."

   "Then…?"

   "I will be your guardian and your Lord. Before us, Sin will fall," his voice took on the sweeping promise it had held in Guadosalam when he had talked of Yunalesca and Zaon. Then, it had intrigued and flattered her.

   Now, she felt only bitter anger.

   "A lying guardian, and his pet summoner, Lord Seymour?" she whispered.

   His mouth curved, but she couldn't tell if the smile were genuine or a cover for his anger. "Blunt, but nonetheless an apt description, Lady Yuna."

   "There is no longer any need for careful words between us, is there?" Yuna gave a weak smile.

   "Perhaps not." At last, he released her chin. "So, then, Lady Yuna, will you pledge marriage with me?"

   She recalled where wedding ceremonies were performed in Bevelle; at the highest point of the temple. It was open to the sky, with only a knee-high wall to guard against falls. Her mind grasped the beginning of an idea. To give herself time to think, Yuna replied, "Your betrayal broke my faith in Yevon and the maesters, Lord Seymour, and now you ask me to wed you before both?"

   She would need her wand, for the sending and so she could have the faintest chance of escaping with her life. Her wand…and all the courage she could muster.

   "Of course, Lady Yuna. Would you wish to confuse Spira by taking a husband in some pagan ceremony?"

   "No. It is fitting," she mused. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. This was where she had to play her hand carefully. Her foolish attempt at making a bargain in Macalania—trying to trade her hand in marriage for his submission to Yevon's judgment—had shown her just how much more experienced he was at playing this kind of game. She had to convince him that she was honestly willing to marry him, never mind that he hadn't shown her any reason why she should want to.

   It would help that she was just convincing him to believe in something he wanted to.

   So she said, "It will be just another lie. What's one more after the thousand you've told?"

   And there were lies within lies, because when she went up to the altar, her wand would be hidden in her wedding dress and she would have no intention of pledging herself to him.

   His jaw twitched. "As pointless as careful words might be between us, Lady Yuna," he said, voice velvet as ever but now with a hard edge, "we would do well to maintain a certain level of…courtesy."

   She acknowledged that with a slight nod. She had almost gone too far—but it was a worthwhile risk. That line was the first of several necessary to justify an honest willingness on her part. "I apologize, Lord Seymour. That was a poor choice of words. I just thought I should be honest with my future husband…at least now, in this moment." She ducked her head; her demure nervousness only half-pretense.

   A shaky breath. "I only agree to this because I am, for all purposes, as dead as you, Lord Seymour." She felt a strange relief after she'd said that thought aloud. Some things hurt so much one didn't dare give voice to them, but they were still there, at the back of her mind. How strange that for the first time in a long while, she could allow herself to brutally honest about that, when everything else had to be a lie.

   "An interesting thought," he said. His hand reached out, and hovered by the line of her jaw, as if she were an interesting object he wanted to pick up and turn over thoughtfully.

   "Earthly vows…don't matter so much to the dead, do they?" she asked softly, back to the lies. _My final line in this play of ours…let it be enough…_

   She watched a smile turn up the corners of his mouth. "We understand one another, Lady Yuna."

   A pause. "It will best, though, if you try to…accustom yourself to the fact that I will be your guardian."

   She nodded. "Of course. I accept that, Lord Seymour."

   "Then try to trust me in that capacity. If we have no bond between us, you will not be able to summon the Final Aeon."

   She tilted her head quizzically. "What do you mean?"

   "You will see when we arrive in Zanarkand." Cool dark eyes caught hers. "And you can trust me as your guardian. I did not lie when I said I would never end your pilgrimage."

   He was so intense that she felt suddenly that she could believe him, but she remembered that this was one of his talents.

   "Of course not," she said solemnly. It was a perfect lie; down to the inflection of her voice and her natural-feeling smile, and yet—

   "You don't believe me." She felt the clench of sickened fear. If he could read her so easily, what else had he seen through?

   He smiled. "You look horrified, Lady."

   She realized her mask must've slipped. Tucking her hands behind her back so he wouldn't see them tremble, she wiped the sweat on her skirt. "I—" she took a deep breath. "As strange as it may seem, Lord Seymour—I believe you." She met his gaze with, she hoped, a steady frankness.

   "I thought we had agreed that careful words are wasted between us. You were certainly candid enough a few minutes ago."

   "Well, I—"

   "You have some time. Several weeks, in fact. This trust does not have to be an immediate thing. I certainly do not expect it to be."

   "That's very good of you," she said, feeling a rush of relief.

   "As a gesture of trust, I will have your wand returned to you." He brushed a kiss over her mouth, and then pulled away and bowed.

   "Thank you," Yuna said, giving the same formal half-bow.

   _He had just given her the means to send him._

   She felt a little regret, because in this, at least, he really did seem genuine. But it wasn't hard to banish the emotion, by calling up her memories of Lord Jyscal's sphere, and replace it with determination. The betrayal still felt like a knife to the gut.

   Yuna shook her head, suddenly flush with hurt anger. She had been flattered by his interest, maybe even a little infatuated with the idea of him. If not for Jyscal's warning, she might have married him, and it wouldn't have been for love—but it would've been for more than Spira.

~*~

   _"You would play at marriage just for a chance to send me?" he had said, just minutes before._

   She would, and more. She had intended to jump from the beginning. There had been deviations—most importantly, the fact that Seymour was still unsent, but this part at least would be according to plan.

   It was oddly comforting, to stand balanced precariously on the edge, to sense the nothing behind her like a physical presence, and to know no one was near enough to stop her. At least she still had some control over the situation.

   She gave Seymour a small, tight-lipped smile. _I'm learning quickly, Lord Seymour. I'm not yet an expert at this kind of game, but I'm nearly your equal. If not for my guardians, right now you would be nothing more than a memory in the Farplane._

   "You're coming with us!" Tidus shouted at her.

   "Don't worry! Go!"

   Couldn't he see this was the only way any of them would survive? And she very much wanted him to live.

   "This is foolish," her husband scoffed.

   _Her husband, she thought numbly. There was another significant change in plan. She hadn't meant to see the ceremony through to the end._

   She pointedly wiped his kiss from her mouth. "Don't worry. I can fly," she promised Tidus. "_Believe_."

   It might have been another lie to top the pile of lies she had told lately, because she didn't know if she could summon even Valefor in midair.

   She thought, desperately, _it_ is_ the truth. I'm sick of lies._

   And she fell.


End file.
